The curtain rises on Connelly standing in his cell, a rotten look on his mug, his ripped bare chest exposing his tats, Cape Fear-style. He’s talking to his court-appointed defender, Jonathan Cox, who’s standing on the other side of the bars.

Connelly: (chuckles menacingly) I guess you’ll have to read between the lines, counselor.

Cox: (scratches head) Well, not really. I mean, it’s pretty clear. And there’s this other letter you sent yesterday. It says, ‘Just in case you didn’t get my previous letter, I, Bryan Jay Connelly, am asking you to participate in a conspiracy to commit the murders of public officials.’” And you even included a blank check that says ‘To murder the judge and prosecutor’ in the ‘Memo’ line.”

Connelly: (pointing to his prison tat of a blood-dripping dagger hovering over a WaMu checking account withdrawal slip) I’m pure evil, boss. What do you expect from me? A Valentine’s card?

Cox: Um, you’re a check-forger. You were set to be released in, like, less than a year. Oh, and this part here, where it says that if I didn’t accept your offer, it would be a mistake on my part? I don’t get that. If you needed me to get someone to have the judge and prosecutor killed, were you going to have me find someone to have me killed, too? Seriously. This wasn’t really well-thought-out, Bryan.

Connelly: I’m a cold-blooded sonofabitch, counselor. I ain’t no philosopher.

Cox: You’re an idiot, is what you are.

Connelly: (curling lips into a snarl) We’ll see who the idiot is when I get out next year.

Cox: OK, Bryan. I’m leaving now.

Connelly: (reaches into back pocket and pulls out an envelope) Wait – can you cash this for me?

Cox: (opens envelope, furrows brow) This is a piece of toilet paper that says ‘This is a personal check’ and you’ve written ‘A bazillion dollars’ in the amount line and ‘Cash,’ in the ‘pay to the order of’ line. What am I supposed to do with this?”

Connelly: (chuckles menacingly) I read you loud and clear, counselor. Loud and clear.